


distractions

by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)



Series: FullmoonFiclet Entries [132]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Date, Flirting, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/triggeringthehealing
Summary: There are hunters in town. Young, ill-advised, easy targets for the pack. Still, Stiles knows that walking right into the motel they’re staying at is a recipe for disaster. Since it’s precisely what Derek seems to want to do, Stiles needs a distraction.





	distractions

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Full Moon Ficlet](http://fullmoonficlet.tumblr.com/) challenge - prompt #331 - strike

"Look, there's no way we can go into this unprepared," Stiles says, looking up from the maps and scraps of paper on the table. "I know that a surprise strike would be the best thing, to catch the hunters unaware, but we can't make it something that's surprising to _us_." 

"I know," Derek grunts unconvincingly. 

"I know you _know_ , Derek, but do you really?"

"Stiles."

"I mean, I don't want to you walk out of here tonight before we get a plan together. Or well, you _can_ walk out without us having a solid plan, but that doesn't mean you should walk out of here with the intention of heading over to the hunters to try and catch them off guard. Because that's not going to work," Stiles rambles, he knows, but he wants to drive it home that walking into the motel where the hunters have set up camp is dangerous and a _bad idea_. 

"I won't," Derek tells him, eyes still on the map and fingers running over the notes that they gathered.

The whole pack was on reconnaissance missions for the past two days, snooping where they could without giving themselves away. It proved a lot easier than they were used to, since this group of hunters from out of town and out of state didn't seem to have done their research. That, in Stiles's extensive experience, didn't mean that it was true, but that was definitely how they were seen. Normally Stiles would be extremely suspicious of that—and he was for the first day—but this time there really seems to be a lack of information and awareness on the hunters' side. 

They're young, barely old enough to be in the know. They're only just older than Stiles was when he found out about the supernatural, back in high school. He wonders how much training they could possibly have at that age but he saw them and found that whether they're well-trained or not, they're armed to their teeth and clearly mean business. The problem is that they don't seem to know _what_  their business is. 

It's a recipe for disaster already, let alone if Derek or anyone else decide to walk right to them and cause a reaction triggered by surprise. With the amount of weapons of all different kinds, there would most likely be innocent bystanders hurt at best and killed at worst. There is precisely zero need for anything like that to happen. It just means that Stiles will need to distract Derek from whatever half-baked plans he might have for the situation. 

"I think you want to go now," Stiles says quietly. "I think you figured that these people are young and would be easily taken down. I think you want to do something before _they_  do something to those we care about."

"I think you're assuming a lot and you know what that means," Derek replies, finally lifting his head to look at Stiles.

"I'm an ass, yes," Stiles says, corner of his lips twitching in amusement. "You love my ass."

"I appreciate your ass," Derek says in a completely flat tone. "That doesn't mean I need to tolerate you being one." 

Derek grunts then and that's enough of an answer to tell Stiles that he's right. Not that he really needed a confirmation but he gives himself a moment to preen about it anyway, because it's not often that he gets an acknowledgment like this. 

"Look, we'll figure out a way to get them," Stiles says, returning to the original conversation. "Marching in there without a plan has never worked out well for us, has it?"

He can see the moment that Derek remembers that one time when they had no plan and still got out unscathed and with the bad guys out of commission. 

"Fine, _one time_  is not a good enough sample though," he concedes. 

The smirk on Derek's lips does classify as gloating, Stiles is pretty sure. 

"We're almost ready with a decent plan, you know this. You've gotta be patient," he tells Derek.

"I am patient."

There's no way Stiles can hold back the snort at that statement, because the only person he knows with a bigger case of being trigger happy is, well, himself. Derek's patience has the length of about a mayfly's lifecycle considering the grand scheme of things in life. He does like a good plan but he prefers when it's done fast and ideally is ready without the actual planning stage. Stiles can't argue with that, though he does tend to enjoy the strategizing a little more than anyone else in their pack. 

"Maybe you need a distraction," Stiles mutters, thinking out loud. 

He's met with a wall of silence at that and it makes him look up from the maps that his eyes flicked to as he was musing over Derek's patience issue. When his gaze lands on Derek, he sees the raised eyebrow and an expression that's a strange mix of amusement and disapproval. 

"We have a bunch of hunters in town, ready to take out someone just to prove themselves," Derek says when Stiles mirrors the raised eyebrow. "Do you really think any of us should be distracted right now?"

Stiles shrugs. 

"Well, yeah," he tells Derek. "I don't mean anything major, just a little something to stop you from trying to get yourself hurt." 

To his surprise, Derek doesn't do what Stiles expects him to, which is to shut down the whole direction of their conversation. Instead, his eyebrows both shoot up for a moment and then the corner of his lips twitches. 

"Did you have anything in mind?" 

Stiles is stunned into a very untypical silence. The thing is, they've been dancing around each other for a while now, both of them single again and both in Beacon Hills for a while, with no plans to leave anytime soon. It's no secret to anyone around them that Stiles has long found Derek attractive in several different ways. He just thought for an equally long time that the attraction was entirely one-sided. It's a very new thing that he started considering if he was wrong all these years and that maybe Derek isn't completely indifferent to Stiles's everything. 

"That depends on what you think would take your mind off of rushing out right now," Stiles says, keeping his words deliberately vague so he can turn the conversation whichever way seems the most suitable. 

Derek seems to ponder his options and the silence does nothing to keep Stiles's hopes down nor his nerves calm. He's not a blushing teen with a crush, those years are well behind him now, especially after he got to date the person he was infatuated with and found out that reality is a whole lot different than his imagination. He had crushes since Lydia, but not as consuming as that one was. Right now, he has a bit of a deja vu from the way his stomach feels like it's filled with butterflies—not an image he really likes but the best simile anyway. 

"Maybe we should go somewhere," Derek offers eventually, just as Stiles's brain is starting to spin dangerously. 

"Somewhere like, for a drive?" 

"Somewhere like getting something to eat," Derek clarifies. "Have you eaten anything today at all?"

Stiles frowns as he tries to remember if he has because "yes" feels like a lie. 

"There was breakfast," he admits. "And I had a power bar when Scott got here." 

"Actual food, Stiles," Derek says with an exasperated sigh. "Come on, let's go get some burgers."

Without hesitation, Stiles follows him outside and doesn't protest when Derek nods towards his own car. Since they're going somewhere together, there's no point taking Roscoe too and Stiles does still get a bit of a thrill from being in Derek's current Camaro—he did lose count of how many Derek had through the years—even if it's only on the passenger side. 

"So, Hot Wheels," Stiles starts when they pull away from the loft building where the pack still continues to meet for strategy sessions, "where are you taking me?"

"To the morgue, if you repeat the Hot Wheels thing again," Derek huffs in response. 

"Oh come on, how can I? You're the one switching one Camaro for another," Stiles tells him, smiling. 

"It's a good car."

"I know it is. But it was also one of the first Hot Wheels models," Stiles says. 

"How do you even know that?" 

"I was a young boy once, dreaming of a shiny hot rod of a car," Stiles grins and his mind wanders away to the calm and innocent days when that was true. Days before werewolves and hunters. 

"Because you're ancient now," Derek says and Stiles catches him rolling his eyes. 

"Feels like it sometimes," Stiles admits quietly, his mood dropping a fraction. "We've all definitely lived through more than others in their whole life. Some of us possibly are on the ninth life." 

Derek only glances away from the road for a second but it's enough for Stiles to see the seriousness and concern in his face. 

"Glad you made it this far," he says, to Stiles's surprise. 

"Likewise," Stiles replies. 

They both go silent then and inevitably Stiles's mind runs over the times when he wasn't sure that either of them was going to make it to the next day. There were way too many close calls for both of them, due to not only the dangers around them but occasionally also because of their shared willingness to dive into danger without a second thought. In precisely the same way that Stiles has suggested distracting Derek from tonight. He doesn't dare think about just how many times they should have had their lives end by now because the answer would probably terrify anyone with a shred of sanity. 

"So, you didn't answer my question," he says a while later, twisting his body so he gets a better look at Derek. 

"Huh?"

"You said we're getting food," Stiles clarifies. "Where are we heading?" 

Derek pauses like he forgot their destination, then he glances at Stiles again for a moment before replying.

"You like the new shake place outside of town, right?" 

It's a night for surprises apparently—Stiles doesn't remember mentioning the place more than maybe twice in the space of several months since he first went there—because he never expected Derek to know that tidbit. 

"Yeah, the burgers are the best in town. And they do curly fries," Stiles adds because that's a deciding factor for him when it comes to a burger joint's quality. 

"Of course they do," Derek nods in what's maybe supposed to be a serious expression but is betrayed by the way Derek's lip curls up at the corner. 

"Don't you dare mock my love of curly fries, man" Stiles tells him, knowing that he can't pull off being serious. 

"I would never," Derek tells him solemnly just before his face lights up with a smile. 

"Liar."

"Good thing you can't tell," Derek replies fast. 

Their conversation continues in a similar tone all the way through town and it's easy, simple. There were times in the past when Stiles wouldn't have dreamed of having this easy a conversation with Derek, but it's become the norm now, though the slightly flirty undertones are most definitely shiny and new. They're not obvious—to an outsider it probably just sounds like they're teasing each other in a friendly way—but Stiles knows now how Derek talks to friends and how he talks when he's flirting. Plus, he knows his own way of keeping the door open to double entendres in conversations that are intended to lead them outside of the friendship boundaries. 

By the time Derek pulls up to the diner—restaurant, really, since it's a little more upscale than a diner—Stiles is questioning if he imagined where their conversation was going. It's almost like any other night when the pack decides to get food together, only this time it's Stiles and Derek alone. Which isn't all that new either, there have been a few times when everyone else decided to split up and head elsewhere. 

Still, Stiles is fighting the urge to ask if this can be considered  _a date_. Mostly because, if he dares being completely honest with himself, he _wants it to be_. And it shouldn't be awkward, it shouldn't be a big deal to be honest about things. Maybe it would be fine and if Stiles is reading too much into things, they'll just both brush it off and get on with life. 

It's just that there's a tiny voice at the back of Stiles's mind that reminds him that getting this wrong might end up causing tension and make things difficult. After all, they do both live in Beacon Hills and the town has never been big enough to hide from anyone. 

"You're thinking very loudly over there," Derek says as they find an empty booth.

Stiles freezes. It's not like he's saying his thoughts out loud without knowing it, that much he's sure of. But he's clearly not as good at keeping his face blank as he thought he was.

"Anything I can help with?" Derek asks, leafing through the menu without really looking at it. 

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I mean, if anyone can it would be you, but..." Stiles starts rambling, then he stops himself, bites his bottom lip to keep more words from falling out, and turns his gaze to the napkin box instead. 

"Stiles." 

"Yeah?" 

When he looks across the table, Derek is looking right back, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes and a small smile on his lips. It's one that Stiles doesn't see a lot—it's _fond_ , for lack of a better word—and it jolts something in Stiles's chest. There's nothing that would stop the question that pushes itself to the forefront of Stiles's mind then.

"Is this a date?" 

His whole body tenses as the words spill out and Stiles watches every minute movement of Derek's face: the twitch of his eyebrow, the curling of the corner of his mouth, the way his eyes widen just a fraction. He doesn't miss the way Derek's cheeks darken a little under the harsh lights of the restaurant either.

"Do you want it to be?" Derek asks in return. 

"You didn't answer," Stiles says automatically, as he always does when someone answers with a question. "But yeah, I do. Want that." 

"Okay," Derek nods. "Then it can be." 

That's it. It's that simple, apparently. Stiles's smile mirrors the one that he's looking at and for a blissful moment, his mind is blank. But then his thoughts come rushing back and he tries to remember what it is that people _do_  on dates, besides small talk and eating. He can't imagine having a mindless conversation with Derek just to fill the silence and there's no food yet since they didn't order. Stiles wonders for a beat if he can summon the wait staff to their table before it gets awkward.

"Stiles."

Derek says his name like he knows exactly what Stiles is thinking and how he's internally freaking out. 

"Yeah?"

"You're thinking way too noisily again."

"We have met before, right?" Stiles asks lightly and a layer of his worries starts peeling away. 

"It looks like you're panicking about this," Derek tells him, not bothering to answer the question. 

"Maybe. A little," Stiles admits. 

Derek smiles that soft and fond smile again and drops the menu on the table, then reaches across until his palm in on top of Stiles's hand. Without thinking, Stiles turns his hand over and his eyes drop down just as Derek's palm meets his own. 

"Let's get food first," Derek says, glancing to the side. 

Stiles follows the movement and sees a waiter approaching. 

"Okay. I can do that," he says when he looks back at Derek.

He wonders if his heart will be able to handle seeing Derek's face the way it is now, soft and relaxed, happier than Stiles has seen him over the years. Most of his doubts vanish into thin air as his mind processes the fact that _he_  is the cause of Derek's expression. 

As far as distraction tactics go, Stiles thinks that maybe he found the best one yet. Not only is Derek not rushing into danger, but Stiles gets to live a dream. 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) || [my sterek fic tumblr](http://triggeringthehealing.tumblr.com/)


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